


A Family

by robin_writes



Series: Bingo Baby! [5]
Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Cursed, Cute, De-Aged, De-Aged Sweets, F/M, Fluff, Foster Care, Playing House, Sweets is seven, bingo baby, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 07:24:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16970298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robin_writes/pseuds/robin_writes
Summary: Lance Sweets is de-aged twenty years when he touches something he shouldn't on a case. The gang tries to figure out how to fix him, but does he really want to be fixed?





	A Family

Sweets had vanished into the museum archives. Booth realised this exactly ten minutes after it had happened.

 

There was a murder in the storage of the Jeffersonian and Sweets had said that he wanted to take a little time, walk around, see if he could pinpoint why the killer chose the Jeffersonian archives as a crime scene with its extensive security measures. But Sweets hadn’t come back and they were almost the last people on the scene. Other than Bones and her squintern of the week; it happened to be Wendell. “Sweets!” Booth called out as he walked down the aisles of ancient artefacts in wooden crates. “Sweets. We’re done, let’s wrap it up.”

 

He must’ve checked the entire storage room, if you could even call it that, it was far too large to be a storage room. But Booth rounded on a section he hadn’t seen before. “Sweets? You here?”

“Booth?” It sounded like the doctor, but much more high pitched.

 

Booth was confronted with a child. He looked about six or seven, and he was wearing a suit that was way too big for him, tie and all. “Booth?” The kid stared up at him. Booth could see it was Sweets. He didn’t understand it, but there was no denying the dark-haired boy was the FBI psychologist.

“Yeah Sweets?”

“I think we have a problem.” The kid waved his arms, showing off the great abundance of fabric that no longer fit him.

“I would say so.” Booth nodded. “Did you talk to anyone or touch anything at all?”

“That blue mask up there. I was examining it for traces of blood.” The kid Sweets pointed above him. It was off-balancing, the difference between Sweets’ words and his tone and appearance. Both couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“Right. I don’t think I should touch it but I’ll grab the box. We should get Bones and head back to the lab.” Booth pulled the box down and started to walk in the direction he thought Bones and Wendell were. Kid Sweets followed behind him, occasionally stopping to pull up his trousers or pick up a shoe when it fell off.

“Booth, who is this child and why is he wearing clothes that are significantly bigger than him?” Bones asked when she saw the two.

“It’s Sweets.”

“I don’t understand, Dr Sweets is a twenty-seven year old man, not a six-year old child.”

“I think I’m seven Dr Brennan.” Sweets said.

“Nevertheless, that cannot be Sweets.” She replied.

“We’ll figure it out at the lab.” Booth said and then he led the kid, Bones and Wendell out of the storage room. He asked one of the techs at the door to transport the remains to the platform in the lab.

 

Booth huddled them all into Bones’ office, trying to shield Lance from view as much as he could. Technically, kids weren’t allowed in the lab even if they were colleagues. He shut the door behind them and closed the blinds.

 

Lance took a seat on the couch while everyone else stood around him. “I don’t understand Booth, it is scientifically impossible for that boy to be Sweets.” Brennan started.

“Maybe that means there’s a higher power at work here.” Booth said.

“Scientifically impossible Booth.” Bones chastised.

 

While they were arguing, Wendell was studying Lance. “Dr Brennan, if you just look at the child for a minute, you’ll see that he and Dr Sweets do share identical bone structure, factoring in aging of course.” Wendell said out of nowhere. Bones bent down to stare at Lance’s face. He was squirming now, uncomfortable with all the attention he was getting.

“I see. There is simply one explanation.” She said. Everyone waited for her to explain. “It is a clone.” Bones said as if it was obvious.

“I am not a clone!” Lance protested.

“That’s exactly what a clone would say.” Bones smiled in triumph.

“No more sci-fi movies for you.” Booth cut in. “He’s not a clone.”

“Well then, Sweets… if that is really your name, enlighten us with your version of events.”

“Okay, I told Agent Booth that I was going to look around, see what insights I could bring to the case. I walked for a little while and found a blue mask. It sort of looked like it had blood on it and it had been put back in a hurry, half out of the box where everything was packed up neatly. So I put on some gloves. I wanted to pick it up to examine but as soon as I touched it, I was suddenly too small. It was out of reach. And then Agent Booth found me.” He said. Booth exhaled.

“How are we going to turn him back? Make him big Sweets again.” Booth looked at Bones. She was the only one smart enough, and maybe Hodgins, with his conspiracy theories there had to be some crazy theory about masks that de-age people.

“I’ll run some tests.” Bones said.

 

She was crouched in front of Lance when she felt a pain in her chest. “Bones, you okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s completely irrational.”

“What is?” Booth looked at her worried.

“Even though the assumption is that this boy is Dr Sweets, seeing a child in clothes that don’t fit and witnessing the product of malnourishment is hurting my heart.”

“It’s hurting your heart?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to get him smaller clothes and some food?” Booth asked.

“I do. But I’ve got a lot of work to do Booth. I have a murder to solve.”

“Just an idea, maybe we should prioritise helping Sweets over the murder.” Booth said.

“I’ll take some blood and then we could take Sweets to the store.” Bones stood and left the room.

 

She came back with a large needle and blood drawing equipment. “Sweets, would you extend your left arm please.” He did as directed and Bones crouched to roll up the suit sleeve. “This may hurt a little.” She sterilised the arm after tying a tourniquet.

“Bones, you’re meant to say it won’t hurt.” Booth said.

“I’m not going to lie to the child, he’s very intelligent despite his tendency towards psychology.” Bones drew the blood as quickly as she could and sealed the tube. “Mr Bray, would you examine Sweets’ clone’s blood while Booth and I take him out. You should also consult with Dr Hodgins.”

“Not a clone!” Lance said.

“Yes Dr Brennan.” Wendell took the blood and left the room to analyse it.

 

Booth drove Bones and Lance to the nearest clothes store. Lance looked a little odd walking around in a suit jacket that reached his knees and trousers he had to hold up. “The kids clothes are over there.” Booth pointed over to where several small mannequins were wearing brightly coloured clothes.

 

The three headed for the clothes. “See anything you like Sweets?” Booth asked the child.

“There aren’t any suits.” He stated the obvious.

“Well yeah, find a pair of jeans or something.” Booth replied.

 

The two adults followed Lance through the aisles as he ran his hands over some of the materials. He picked up a Darth Vader shirt and smiled with a toothy grin up at Booth. “Can I have it? Can I have it Booth? Please?” He was starting to sound more like his age.

“Sure bud.” He took the top from the child and dropped it in the basket he was holding.

“What about this Sweets?” Brennan held a patterned shirt up. “It’s a chinle pattern. The print is a Navajo pattern. It’s very well replicated.”

“Bones, I think he’s more interested in the Star Wars prints.” Booth said, trying not to undermine Bones’ love for anthropological based designs.

“You might be right.” She nodded to where Lance was sifting through the Star Wars section of boys clothes.

 

Booth took all of the clothes Lance picked and placed them into the basket. “What would you like to eat?” Dr Brennan asked.

“Can we get burgers?” Lance asked as they walked up to the checkout counter.

“What a cute kid. You’re both very lucky.” The checkout cashier said.

“Oh, he’s not-“ Bones started.

“Thank you.” Booth interrupted.

 

Bones paid, feeling obligated despite Lance not being her actual child. As they were leaving, she turned to her FBI counterpart. “Why did you thank the cashier? She thinks that Sweets is our child.”

“It’s too complicated to explain who he is, and the explanation might land us in a padded cell.”

“I see your point.” Bones conceded, and they began to drive to the Royal Diner.

 

They fed Lance and then took him back to their house. As they were driving, the consistent motion and soothing timbre of the car rocked Lance to sleep.

 

“Look at him Booth, he’s just a child.” Brennan said as they opened the side door to where Lance was sitting. Booth reached in, unbuckled the seat belt and wrapped his arms around the boy. He lifted him and carried the child into the house. Bones followed them both up the stairs and into Parker’s room.

 

Booth peeled back the blanket and tucked the young boy in. “Sleep tight.” They walked out of the room and pulled the door closed, leaving it open just a crack so that light from the hallway seeped in.

“I should head back to the lab, see if Wendell and Hodgins have found anything.” Bones whispered in the hallway.

“Okay, I’ll stay here, work from home. Who knows, maybe Sweets will wake up and he’ll be himself again.”

“It’s unlikely.” Bones said and then she left, taking the car.

 

Booth stood for a while, watching Lance sleep. He looked peaceful, nothing like Dr Sweets. He said he was seven, but he was so small and skinny that he looked barely six. His hair was dark and curly, a caricature of Sweets’ tamed hair.

 

Once he was satisfied, Booth grabbed the paperwork from his bag. He decided to work in the bedroom so he was closer to Lance if the boy needed anything, he would usually work in his office or at the kitchen table.

 

After a while, Booth was engrossed in the paperwork, he heard whimpering like a sad dog. He furrowed his brow and dropped the pen on his bed. Booth stood and crossed the hall to Parker’s bedroom. He pushed the door open a little and saw Lance thrashing around crying.

 

Booth rushed over to the kid and crouched down by the bed. “Sweets! Wake up. You’re just having a nightmare. Wake up.” His stern but comforting voice drew Lance back to consciousness. When he saw Booth, he cowered backwards and fell off the other side of the bed. “Are you alright?” Booth sped over to the fallen boy.

“Booth?” Lance asked, finally recognising the man.

“Yeah bud, it’s me. Are you okay?”

“I had a nightmare.”

“Do you want some water or warm milk? It might help you get back to sleep.” Booth asked. Lance nodded and pushed himself up from the floor. He walked behind Booth, slipping his small hand into Booth’s hanging hand, as they moved to the kitchen.

“Where’s the lady?” Lance asked as Booth poured out some milk into a mug and put it in the microwave.

“The lady? Do you mean Bones?”

“Bones? That’s a weird name.”

“It’s not her real name, it’s just what I call her.”

“Like you call me Sweets.”

“No… not really.” Booth was confused as he watched the kid.

“My name isn’t Sweets, it’s Lance Finley.”

“Finley?”

“Yeah, the Finleys are gonna adopt me.”

“Sorry Lance, I didn’t mean to call you Sweets… cause it’s not your name.” Booth turned around to remove the milk from the microwave and took the time to frown where Lance couldn’t see him. He turned back around him with a perfect poker-face and handed Lance the mug. “Careful, it’s hot.”

“So, are you gonna take me back to the Finleys in the morning? They’ve gotta be worried.” Lance blew on the liquid and took a little sip.

“No, I’m sorry Lance.”

“Oh. They don’t want me anymore. I understand. Nobody really wants me.” Lance set the mug on the kitchen counter, which he could barely reach, and started to walk away from Booth.

“Wait a minute.” Booth took two strides to Lance’s five and caught up to him.

“Can I just go back to bed Mr Booth?” He looked so sad, eyes glazed and lip quivering, like he was about to burst into tears.

“Come here kid.” Booth gestured for Lance to move to him for a hug. He didn’t want to push it and possibly evoke an unpredictable reaction from Lance by forcing a hug on him, but he did know when a kid needed comforting.

 

Lance looked at him wearily but the need for physical comfort outweighed his hesitancy. He stepped into Booth’s open arms. Booth slid down onto a knee so he could wrap his arms around Lance’s whole body, and the boy began to cry silently into Booth’s shoulder.

 

Booth was angry and sad and confused and almost every other negative emotion under the sun, but he was also determined.

 

There had been hints at work of Sweets’ broken and battered childhood, but never anything more than a passing remark. But he knew now exactly how vulnerable the psychologist used to be, and still is.

 

The boy yawned in his arms. “Let’s get you back to bed.” He lifted Lance and stood. Lance wrapped his arms around Booth’s neck after more hesitation. It didn’t seem like the hesitancy was about not trusting Booth anymore, but rather because no one had lifted him in a very long time.

 

Lance fell asleep while Booth was carrying him up the stairs, he tucked the young boy into the bed and left the door cracked open again. He was exhausted himself from the emotional turmoil, but he needed to make a phone call before he could go to bed. Bones would likely not be home for hours.

 

Booth grabbed the landline and closed his bedroom door behind him, he didn’t want Lance hearing. He called an old buddy of his. “Hey Gordon Gordon, I need your help.”

“Anything. Name it.”

“I’m looking after a kid at the minute, he’s been in foster care almost his whole life. He believes that no one wants him, and he has these awful nightmares. I could really use your help.”

“Can’t you get your Dr Sweets to help out?”

“Sweets is out of state at the minute.”

“I’m much further than out of state, I’m out of States as in I’m in England right now.”

“Sweets went on a camping trip, he’s out of cell service. I can’t reach him.”

“Ah, well okay. How old is the boy?”

“Seven.”

“That’s tricky, he’s young. I suppose it’s a temporary situation pertaining to an investigation?”

“Sure, yeah. It’s temporary.” He mumbled ‘hopefully’ under his breath.

“You can’t let him become attached to you Agent Booth, you’ll become just another person who doesn’t want him at the end of the investigation when he goes back into foster care.”

“That’s gonna be a problem. I think he may already be attached to me.”

“Well then, you’ll need to have someone else watch him and interact with him for the next few days, at least. You need to show the boy that you aren’t dependable right now otherwise the bond will deepen and it will become much harder for him to let go of you when the time comes.”

“Thanks doc.”

“You’re welcome. And if you need any more advice, don’t hesitate to call.”

“Sure. Thanks again.” Booth hung up. “Damnit.” That wasn’t really the answer he wanted. He wanted to be told that it was okay to show Lance that he was worthy of love, because he wasn’t going to find it anywhere else. Maybe Gordon Gordon’s advice didn’t count because it was Sweets. He would turn back at the end of this, he wouldn’t be leaving them. Booth decided to ponder the predicament.

 

The next morning, Booth woke to laughter. It was Lance and Bones. He pulled on a robe and headed in the direction of the laughter.

 

They were both leaning over the stove, Lance was standing on an ottoman to reach the large pan. “Oh, Booth. Lance and I were just making breakfast.” Bones said as she saw Booth.

“Breakfast? It looks more like a science experiment.” He said, glancing over the thick, viscous fluid that was slowly dripping off the stove like treacle.

“It is of sorts, yes. But wouldn’t you say that all cooking is just science experiments; trying to replicate an end product using ingredients and a method, sometimes achieving different results when small adjustments are made?”

“Wow, okay, yeah. Cooking is science. Got it. So what science are you doing then?”

“We’re making pancakes.” Lance said, smiling wide. There was no sight of the boy that was crying into Booth’s shoulder last night.

“That doesn’t look like pancakes.”

“I admit, I may have put too much flour in.” Bones said.

“Let the breakfast king show you how it’s done.” Booth hustled so he was standing in front of the pan.

“Does being the breakfast king mean you are the best at making breakfast or eating it?” Brennan smirked and pat Booth’s non-existent belly with her hand.

“I’ll have you know I’m king of both.” He laughed.

 

Lance was watching the exchange, awe-struck. He couldn’t figure out how they were so happy together, and why that made him so happy too. None of his previous foster families were ever this happy, and it seemed like Mr Booth and Bones were always this happy. He decided very quickly that he liked it here and he wouldn’t be disappointed if he didn’t get back to the Finleys.

 

Brennan took Lance to the lab with her as was Booth’s suggestion while he went back to the Bureau. It was quiet without Sweets around. His office was empty, locked up, and Booth’s was no better. The basketball hoop over the bin and the bobby bobblehead seemed childish and meaningless without Sweets there to analyse him, unwillingly of course.

 

There was a mountain of papers to be filled out on his desk. Booth didn’t even bother to sit down before he changed his mind. He switched the light back off in his office and headed to the Jeffersonian. Screw Gordon Gordon, this was Sweets. The kid wasn’t leaving at the end of this, any attachment he made would only bring them closer together when Sweets became Sweets again.

 

Booth found Lance in Bones’ office. He was sitting in her spinning chair, pushing himself in circles and staring at the ceiling. He looked down when he heard the footsteps. “Mr Booth.” The boy grinned widely. “I thought you were going to work.”

“I’m gonna work from here today. I’ll be back in a few minutes, I’ve just got to check in with Bones and her friends.”

“Okay.” Lance was still smiling. Booth dropped his bag next to Bones’ couch and he went to Hodgins’ office first.

 

“Booth, I didn’t think you were coming in today.” Hodgins said as he saw the agent walk into his office.

“What have you found on Sweets?” He asked directly.

“Right to the point. Got it. So the blood was a match for the on-file blood Sweets gave when he joined the FBI. A hundred percent match. That doesn’t rule out cloning, but I did reach out to some of my scientist buddies who specialise in cloning and they said if the process could be used to clone a human, there is absolutely no way it would happen immediately. The clone would have to grow at the same rate as a human.”

“Not a clone. Sure. What else?”

“I think that actually is Sweets.”

“Okay…”

“I figure that when he touched the mask, Sweets was de-aged.”

“De-aged?”

“Yeah, somehow his growth hormone was messed with and it worked backwards. That is a seven year old Lance Sweets.”

“That doesn’t seem possible. It sounds like science fiction Hodgins.”

“There’s one other explanation.”

“Okay?”

“That’s where I came in.” Angela heard the men talking and stepped into the room. Booth turned to her. “I identified the mask. It’s an Ancient Inca Sacrificial Mask, specifically for Inti, the sun.”

“How does that link to de-aging?” Booth was getting impatient.

“This particular mask has a sordid history. Apparently it was cursed by the equivalent of a dark priest. He made it so that, when used in conjunction with another artefact, it could steal the years from a foe, leaving them vulnerable to attack.”

“What other artefact Angela?”

“It’s not specific, it sounds like a battery, like the two in proximity to each other charge the mask for use.”

“Assuming for a minute the curse is real, that would explain why there hasn’t been an epidemic of people turning into children, because one of the artefacts arrived at the Jeffersonian first, separately from the second. It only de-aged Sweets because it was charged up. We have to find the battery.”

“And a growth hormone imbalance sounds less plausible than an Ancient Inca curse?” Hodgins threw his hands up into the air.

“I told Lance I would be right back, good work Angela.” Booth left for Brennan’s office.

 

This time, Bones was sitting with Lance. “Agent Booth, you’re here.” Lance said, but he sounded weird.

“I am.” Booth said, stepping into the room.

“It’s me, Sweets. Dr Brennan has been filling me in on my time as a seven year old.” Lance said. He still looked seven years old, but he sounded more like himself.

“When you were in the archives yesterday, right before you touched the blue mask, did you see anything nearby that you thought was strange?” Booth asked.

“Strange how?”

“I don’t know. Angela said battery but there weren’t any batteries in Incan times.”

“Technically, Booth, it is Inca times, not Incan.” Bones said.

“Thanks for that Bones. Anything at all?” Booth asked Sweets.

“Not really. I’m sorry I couldn’t be any help.”

“That’s okay, I’ll get some techs to check out the archives in a few minutes.”

 

Lance was back after about ten minutes. Sweets disappeared again.

 

Angela offered to take him out for ice cream while Booth and Brennan talked. “You should’ve seen the way he cowered away from me last night Bones, before he recognised me. He was clearly abused.”

“I agree, I took a couple of X-rays while you were at the FBI earlier. Lance has multiple broken bones, with varying degrees of remodelling.”

“If we can’t turn him back what happens?”

“What do you mean Booth?”

“Does he… does Lance go back into the foster system?”

“No.” Bones said sternly. “There is no way I’m letting him go. We turn him back or we keep him.”

“He’s not a pet Bones, he’s a seven year old kid, a kid who doesn’t have papers or any kind of legal record.”

“What I mean to say is that we should raise Lance if we can’t turn him back into Sweets.”

“Okay.” Booth nodded. He liked that idea.

“We have the stability, good jobs and financial well-being enough to support a child. And we love each other. He’d be lucky to have us. We’d be lucky to have him.”

“Yes we would.” For a moment, just a moment, Booth hoped that they wouldn’t be able to ‘re-age’ Lance. He hoped that this meant Lance had a second chance at life, one which would contain a lot less pain.

 

Lance and Angela came back shortly after, when Brennan had gotten back to working on the murder case and Booth was sitting in her office, thinking about the situation.

 

Lance ran over to him, squealing with happiness. “AngelaboughtmethebiggesticecreamI’veeverseenandthenshe-“ Lance was smiling so hard Booth thought it might be hurting him, and he wasn’t even breathing whilst he talked.

“Slow down bud. Start again.”

“Angela bought me the biggest ice cream I’ve ever seen and then she let me get strawberry syrup and sprinkles. How cool is she?”

“Very cool. I hope you said thank you.”

“I did.” Lance nodded. Booth looked at Angela who was hovering in the doorway. She nodded and Booth smiled.

“Great. I’m glad you had fun because I’m done with work for now. Maybe you want to go with me to the park?”

“Yes yes yes, please.” Lance started jumping up and down. As they left Bones’ office, Booth thanked Angela and she disappeared into her own office.

 

It took two days to confirm the curse as a reality and locate the ‘battery’, and a third day for Sweets to come back. Booth was driving Lance home one day. “Booth?” It was that distinctly ‘Sweets’ voice. Booth pulled over to the side of the road, he wanted for Bones to be there too but he couldn’t wait. There was no telling when Sweets would appear again next.

 

He unbuckled his seat belt and turned to face Sweets. “I thought you would’ve turned me back by now.” Sweets said.

“We could have. We found the necessary artefact yesterday.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Bones and I… we wanted to talk to you, Sweets, before we did.”

“Okay… about what?”

“I know what it’s like to grow up being abused, and Bones knows what it’s like to grow up in the system.”

“I wasn’t-“

“I know the signs, let me finish.” Booth said and Sweets nodded. “We wanted to ask you if you want to be turned back.”

“Of course I do.”

“Hold on, Bones and I, we can raise you right. It sounds a little odd, I know. But you deserve to be loved and you deserve a family Sweets. Bones and I want to be that family.”

 

There was an awkward silence in the car until Sweets collapsed against Booth’s chest. Booth wrapped his arms around the child once again, holding him while silent tears fell from his eyes. The boy nodded into Booth’s chest. “I want a family. A real one.”

“Just to make sure, this is you saying we shouldn’t turn you back?” Booth asked, rubbing Sweet’s back.

“Yeah, don’t turn me back.”

 

Lance retuned soon after and he was much happier. Booth continued to drive home. “Bones!” Booth called out as soon as he crossed the threshold. She appeared wearing an apron and holding a towel. “What’re you doing?” Booth asked.

“I was making dinner.”

“Oh God.” Booth rushed into the kitchen, expecting another science experiment. Lance ran after him giggling. But instead, it looked like Bones had made tacos. Booth smiled and leant in to kiss her.

“Ew, gross.” Lance said, covering his eyes.

“I talked to Sweets.” Booth announced. “He doesn’t want to be turned back. He wants us to be a family.”

“That’s wonderful!” Bones pulled Lance and Booth into a hug, encircling them both as best she could. “I’ll call Angela right away and she’ll be able to set up documents so that Lance is a legal citizen and legally ours.” Brennan moved away and grabbed the landline.

“Hear that bud, we’re gonna be a family.” Booth smiled at Lance and Lance smiled back.

 

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